Rivals, Sin, and Snow
by DaughterOfSorceress-Lion
Summary: So lost in thought, so deep in death, only one could save him from his own mind, the only one who ever had. In game, before leaving Trabia Garden.


Summery: So lost in thought, so deep in death, only one could save him from his own mind, the only one who ever had. In game, before leaving Trabia

Disclaimer: I no own FF8 :(

AN: Yup another one-shot… this one just came at me out of nowhere… more Squall philosophical angstyness… go figure, it's what I love to write, enjoy! My first attempt at a LITTLE bit of Rinoa/Squall.

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**Rivals, Sin and Snow**

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He had seen death. He had caused death… but nothing like this. He stood back staring at the grave that held a jacket similar to his own on a tree branch above the grave stone… Garden rubble. That could have been him. If Balamb hadn't moved… It likely would be him. Seifer had pulled the trigger on his own kind, Squall would pull the trigger on him.

He had told Rinoa he didn't want to fight either… That wasn't completely true. He wished it wasn't necessary, the pointless deaths. But all he had really ever known since coming to Garden was fighting, his ability to function alone, to work harder than the rest, to take down any opponent, to take down Seifer. No he didn't want to kill the woman who had raised him… but, he was more than willing to take down the one who protected her. And yet, he was not.

With Seifer… he knew he was alive when he was in pain, pain Seifer had caused him. They were like warring brothers, they respected… even applauded the other's abilities, but still desperate to come out on top, to be the best, to receive the glory… no, Seifer wanted glory, Squall just… he just… wanted to be the best. He didn't need approval. Beating Seifer was the goal that gave him a reason to be alive. Making SeeD before him ended that dispute for him, until Seifer became a SeeD perhaps, but until then, making SeeD first was his last say in the matter, but not Seifer's. This war… his place as pawn on the right side of power, glorified by the title of Knight… this was Seifer's last say. The death around him, was Seifer's say… The pain he caused Squall told him he was alive. But this wasn't physical pain as it had been in the prison, so… it told him nothing.

He looked on to where Selphie had been sitting earlier, where Irvine had been comforting her. They were likely back at Balamb Garden by now. But he wasn't. He was paying his respects to the comrades he had never known, the children who never stood a chance, to those his rival had killed, and he had been unable to stop it… he could have, but he was too slow.

He pulled his jacket closer to him, then he thought, why bother. He was alive, they were not. He was cold, he was numb, they were too, because they were dead, in a way after Sis… after Ellone left, so was he. Dead… more like always dying, his humanity.

How would death feel. Would he be in pain, would he be numb, would he be conscious enough to feel life slipping away, would it even matter. Did it matter to them, these people who lost their lives. Had it been swift, slow, in silence, or in screams… bloody, or not. These people, they had lives worth living… and now they were just… gone.

What of those he had killed? Had they had lives worth living or were they just robots, he was a robot… at least he had been, now he was a commander… he had too much responsibility to die. Yet here, nearly all the faculty were dead, under graves of rubble and snow and ice and dirt. The headmaster was dead. They had died with that responsibility to the students, to each other. He could still die, even with that responsibility. People would move on as they must. He would be talked of in the past tense, if talked about at all. Was his life really worth anything… all he did was take the lives of others.

Was there anything after death, did that matter either? He had little humanity, did he have a soul? If he did, surely his name was already written in the walls of Hell. He had sinned, in the eye's of Hyne. Sinned for which he could never find redemption in himself, for himself. Someone else could find it maybe… not likely though.

No matter how many he saved, if he had killed others who were not robots, if he had killed innocent children, playing war in a costume, thinking that war was somehow glorious only to meet a meaningless death when they had only tried to gallantly fight… horribly, only to die, by his sword. Surely there was no redemption for that. Not like it would matter to anyone who had died before him, not like it would matter to anyone who died after him.

He didn't matter to anyone, he was alone, always alone, always dead to the world… so maybe he wouldn't be talked about in past tense, maybe he would just be forgotten. So many others were just forgotten, even those who cared about other people, and were cared for in return. He had never feared death, yet when he thought about it, he didn't want to die, but did he deserve life?

"Squall?" He jumped. Not high, and not that noticeable, but she saw it. Squall Leonhart jumped. He looked back at her.

Could he really sink so far into thought that his senses were so dulled that he could miss the approach of a possible threat?

No…

Could he really sink so far into thought that he wouldn't hear _her_ walking as she compressed the snow together beneath her boots?

Yes…

Yes, he could sink that far into his own world, the one where he was alone. She didn't know it and he would be loath to tell her, but for as many times as she had saved him from falling too deep into thought, he didn't know where he'd be if she hadn't come… if she didn't pry, if she didn't melt his walls… the one's she didn't know were falling at her mere presence, at her voice. The wall's he didn't want to recognize had ever existed, because that would mean that he was failing, that she was succeeding where so many others had failed. He hated it, but he was thankful for it, for her.

"Everyone's waiting." He nodded. And gave one last look to the death he would avenge. It would not be redemption, not unless it was for someone else, maybe not even then.

"Let's go." He turned around and headed out, leaving her standing there. She looked once more, unaware that he had stopped to wait for her. She wiped her winter jacket sleeve over her face as she turned around her head looking down, a few tears still fell from her eye's and burned the snow as it hit the ground. He didn't really know why he did what he did next but… he did it any way.

"Rinoa?" She looked up to see him standing there. She looked to the side, embarrassed at having him see her break down. He walked foreword and embraced her. She was shocked, though her tears still fell.

"I cried too, you just didn't see it, no one ever does." She looked up to him with realization on her face, though he wasn't sure what it was for.

"Yes they do. You just ignore anyone who tries to comfort you." How many had he ignored? How many had mistaken him for a being that was worth something? Rinoa… she seemed to be one of them.

"I'm not worth the effort, I'm already dead, why bother?" Why help the dead, psychics were phony, there was no help for the dead. No help for him… yet there were those that wanted him to talk to them, there were those that wanted to help him, he didn't understand why. He escaped the embrace he had misguidedly initiated and turned away.

He felt a hand grab one of his, an unwanted touch. He was going to pull away when he saw her eye's, full of… of what… he didn't know, he didn't know people, he didn't know himself, he didn't want to, why would they… why would she.

"Before I asked for the tour you were sleeping, you whispered for Sis… that you were all alone. You're not alone Squall, you never were." What… he had been alone since Sis left.

"You just never let yourself see it, you pushed others away so much, you never saw those willing to try to be there. You didn't want it, because being alone was all you thought you had, your last grip onto life but it's not living your grasping for, it's dying!" This was like a replay of FH only, this time… this time she was saying what he had been thinking.

"You're friends… yes friends are there for you, I am too." Why separate herself from the rest. "Try not to forget before you get lost again." Her tone changed "It's not easy dragging you out of your endless cyclic thinking, you know." She said it almost teasingly. He looked to the ground still with her hand on his.

"Thank you." He gave her hand a slight squeeze and pulled her from where they were standing and began walking back, his hand escaping hers. Maybe… there would be those to talk of him after his death, maybe he needed to at least stick around to leave something decent. Decent like what?

"STOP!" Rinoa nearly shouted. He was immediately pulled from his thoughts and quickly switched into his battle stance pulling his Gunblade out. He looked around and saw nothing. Confused he looked to her as he sheathed his sword.

"The only enemy here is your own brain. Stop thinking, stop sinking, just enjoy the beauty and the cold. Know that you ARE worth it. You don't need to worry about that anymore, not that you ever did in the first place. Just enjoy the falling snow." he obeyed.

Just snow, just snow, just snow, just snow, just snow, just snow… cold, yet not as cold as he had been, because we wasn't dead, not yet… hopefully not for a while, just snow, just snow, just snow, she leaned against him as they walked, he stiffened, he didn't pull away, just snow, just snow, just snow that was saving him, just snow, just snow, just snow, just snow, just beautiful snow,

Just snow.

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R and R


End file.
